


This May Be The Most Important Day Of My Life

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cutie Marks, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5717602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam ran away from their father at the tender ages of sixteen and fourteen.</p>
<p>It's been two years. Running from him. </p>
<p>There's one thing that keeps them on the road.</p>
<p>Their father is a hitman.</p>
<p>Not kidding. You'd think this shit died out in, like, the sixties, right? Nope.</p>
<p>And John Marcus Winchester is living proof of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Running. I Hate Running.

**Author's Note:**

> I am doing this instead of homework, you people should be grateful.

Dean panted, out of breath. Why this form of torture? The worst nightmare of anyone, ever. He was running laps in PE.

"C'mon slow poke!" Charlie called, zooming past.

"I'm sorry I get OUT OF BREATH!" Dean retorted, still breathing heavily but matching pace with Charlie.

"FOR NARNIA!" Charlie yelled, pointing a hand in front of her. Dean laughed but said, "FOR NARNIA!" and they sped up, running ahead of everybody. Maybe with Charles, running would become, or rather be, less of a chore. She was certainly more encouraging than his father...

Maybe we should start at the beginning.

.o0o.

So imagine this. Little Baby Sammoose and Little Toddler Dean-o are happily munching on lunch when an armed man runs into their house.

BAM!

Mary has a hole in her stomach. She passes out, leaving them all alone. Dean, Sam, and John, that is.

BAM!

Baby Sammy cries out, his foot shot. John and Dean immediately form a team, and beat the bastard to a pulp. The police arrived and so did an ambulance, to take Sam, Dean, and John away. Mary was loaded into a black vehicle, Dean would later realize it was a death car, or at least that's what he called it, watching it take away man after man after man. His father put them there.

"Those sons-a-bitches didn't deserve to live." John had said, a few years later when Dean realized exactly what his father was. A hitman.

Sammy walked with a limp.

.o0o.

Fast forward to middle school, and Dean noticed his father's shoulder. It had a strange tattoo that Dean realized as a cutie mark. Having grown up with it the way it was, he didn't notice it was faded. His life had lost its purpose. It had changed too, to the picture of a gun.

Dean was terrified of becoming his father.

Sam was sad all the time. Living with a limp wasn't all that pleasant when you were in elementary school and the kids were just figuring out how to be mean.

Dean also hadn't noticed the similarity between the men put into the black cars, they reminded Dean of beetles, he hadn't noticed their shoulders. But he would.

.o0o.

"Dad, why do we have to go to a gun range?" Dean asked.

"Because, son, I hope to God you're going to continue this after I am gone." John responded.

Dean knew better than to argue.

.o0o.

Dean and Sam had grown up into this life. Sam, of course, was the smartest. Dean could fire a gun without hesitation, and hit a target from a miraculous distance. John didn't care. There was always room for improvement. Who cared if his youngest son could hack into anything if he tried? Who cared if his eldest son had the accuracy with any sort of projectile as Robin Hood? Certainly not him.

And, perhaps most importantly, he didn't care that he had taken his son's childhoods away.

.o0o.

Sam noticed the pattern first. After years of being taught to notice patterns, he could spot one in an instant.

"Dean." Sam had said, nudging his brother as they viewed Dean's first accomplished kill.

"Yeah Sammy?" Dean asked. He was tired. 

"You notice his cutie mark?" Sam asked.

"Not at all." Dean said, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"It's all bloody." Sam said again.

"Yeah, 'cause I shot him." Dean chuckled darkly. Sam smacked his arm before continuing.

"No. If I'm correct, which I always am, you shot him in the chest, like you always do. He's wearing a long sleeved shirt. There's no possible way for the blood to get there." Sam whispered.

"Well, crap." Dean said, rubbing his neck.

"Let's get back to the motel." Sam said, using his cane to limp away. Dean watched Sam for a little bit, sadly, and pondered on the fact that a ten-year-old just figured out a pattern from one trip, and had a cane. 

.o0o.

Dean was fifteen when he got his cutie mark. He was working on Baby for the fifteen-thousandth time, when a wrench appeared on his shoulder.

'Awesome!' he thought, until he noticed something.

It was bloody.

He had to leave before he became the next man being loaded up into the death beetle.

.o0o.

Dean managed a day and a half without letting his father see his cutie mark. He packed his and Sam's bags in secret and they left at exactly 1:35AM on a Thursday.

.o0o.

Dean and Sam had been on the run for a year before they came across a small, Midwestern town in Kansas. Lawrence.

"Why does this feel familiar?" Sam asked, half to himself, half to Dean.

"We used to live here." Dean whispered, a little scared.

"Oh." Sam said, leaning back and using his cane for balance.

"Are we gonna stay here?" Sam asked after a pregnant pause.

"We can." Dean said.

"I know somebody, or at least I used to. He took me out for baseball practice once." Dean said.

"Bobby?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. How'd you know?" Dean asked.

"Remember when you were at Sonny's Home For Wayward Boys?" Sam asked.

"'Course!" Dean said.

"Well I couldn't just go WITH dad as he roamed the country for six months trying to find you." Sam snorted, gesturing to his dead foot.

"Oh." Dean said.

"Well then, let's go!" Sam said, hobbling forward as fast as his cane would allow.

.o0o.

"An' you wan' me to WHAT NOW?" Bobby asked.

"We just want to stay with you, away from dad." Dean said back.

"Okay, and why, might I ask?" Bobby asked incredulously.

"Because of this." Dean said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the wrench tattooed across his muscular shoulder.

"Wow, boy, let me tell you, this may just be the worst town to have that kind a' cutie mark." Bobby snorted.

"Shit. Should we leave?" Dean asked.

"No, boy, but only 'cause I trust you can take care a' yourself." Bobby said, "Perhaps I should give you a little town history. On one side you have the Masters, and on the other you have the Novaks, each as dangerous and brutal as the other." 

"Dean, this place sounds-"

"Yeah, yeah Sammy, I know, dangerous."

"I was gonna say, AWESOME!" Sam said happily.

"What?" Dean asked.

"At least here we don't have to worry about moving away, we can just face our problems!" Sam said, grinning.

"Just don't mess with either those families, ya' idjits." Bobby said apprehensively.

"Anything else we should know?"

"Your father taught you hand-to-hand, right?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah." Dean said, a little suspicious.

"Even Sam?" Bobby asked.

"Yep. Sam can almost beat me in a fight!" Dean said proudly.

"Almost?! I won our last twenty-three matches, jerk!" Sam said, crossing his arms.

"You counted?" Dean asked. Bobby was giving them a highly amused look.

"Hey Ellen! That smells real good, ya almost done with it?" Bobby asked.

"Yep. JOANNA BETH GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! ASH YOU TOO." Ellen yelled.

"Who's in the dining room?" Ash asked, walking down with Jo.

"I don't know. BOBBY DO YOU HAVE GUESTS OR DO I NEED TO GET MY SHOTGUN?" Ellen asked.

"JUST SOME FAMILY FRIENDS, I'LL INTRODUCE YOU WHEN YOU BRING ME THE DAMN POTROAST." Bobby yelled back. Soon Ellen had her kids carry the side foods out and she brought a crock pot out with some stew in it and some chunks of meat floating around.

"I'm Dean, and this is Sammy." Dean said.

"My name is Sam." Sam shifted awkwardly, trying to hide his cane.

"How long are you staying, dears?" Ellen asked.

"Just long enough until Sam can get through college. I don't plan on going." Dean said.

"That's fine. We have two extra rooms, and the house will certainly feel more full with other people in it." Ellen said.

"Hey I'm inviting my girlfriend Charlie over tomorrow, do you think we could serve something nice?" Jo asked, sending the boys a glare that clearly said, 'If you are homophobic get out of my house.'

"Hey, it's cool, me and Sammy are both bi." Dean said, raising his hands in mock surrender. Jo's eyes softened and she got back to her potroast, which was delicious.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I'll take you two shopping tomorrow and we can sign you up Sunday, and school starts in three days, so that ties up pretty evenly, doesn't it?" Ellen asked.

.o0o.

Dean was at school. His first class was PE. Ugh. Ever had PE at seven-twenty-five in the morning? It sucks.

He got dressed quickly and tried his best to ignore the stares from everyone. It was a very small town. There were single classes, meaing that the student body was so small that they could all fit into a single classroom, so that's what they did.

"Dean, go sit by Castiel." the coach directed him to the slightly smaller boy.

"Hi. I'm Dean." Dean said, attempting the 'friendly' look.

"I'm Castiel." Castiel responded.

"Don't you have a brother?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah. Sammy. Why?" Dean asked.

"Some of my brothers were making fun of him." Cas said, bowing his head a little.

"Where are they? I'mma rip their lungs out!" Dean snarled. Apparently the 'nice and friendly' image wasn't working out for him.

"Well, my last name's Novak" Castiel started, making Dean's blood run cold, "and if you want access to my brothers, I'd be more than willing to give you their names along with a comprehensive list of what foods they like, where they hang out, who and what they have access to, etc." Dean snorted.

"Yeah well, my name's Winchester, nice to meet you." Dean laughed, extending his hand. Castiel shook it and Dean noticed he stiffened up.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I'm going to make sure my brothers never hurt your's again." Castiel said certainly.

"What? Am I, like, famous or something?" Dean had meant it as a joke, but the Cas nodded.

"Or at least, your legacy is. I heard your father was one of the top hitmen, and he had trained you and your brother from day one. Or rather days 1,460 and 182." he laughed.

"Did you just-" Dean asked.

"I'm a huge math nerd. You should check out our training facility though. We do everything from hand-to-hand combat to knife training to gun training." Castiel said.

"And what about the others? The Masters?" Dean asked.

"Some of them are terrible. I know two that're alright, I guess. Meg and Ruby. Oh yeah, and Lucifer."

"Wait. Who the fuck names their kid Lucifer?" Dean asked.

"I know, right? Anyway, Meg's an ex, we're on friendly terms, but she found out I was gay and- oh shit. Now you have some blackmail." Castiel said, face paling.

"Nah, I'm not like my old man." Dean said, "Although, if you hurt Sammy I will hurt you." he said seriously. Cas nodded quickly.

"Hey man, I'm not here to fight. Also, what the hell's up with your trench coat? It's like a hundred degrees out." Dean asked. They had chosen to sit this one out on the bleachers.

"I suppose I might as well give you more blackmail," Cas said, laughing, and drawing his trench coat up, "So three weeks ago I got THIS cutie mark. As is Novak tradition, it's a pair of wings."

They were wings. Black wings, looking like they were ready to take flight. And there was a spatter of blood behind them.

"I guess I have to show you mine now." Dean chuckled. He rolled up his shirt and showed Cas the wrench, which was crossed with a silver throwing knife.

"Ah. That's why you left your father." Cas said.

"How do you and Sam do that shit?" Dean asked.

"Your muscles are slightly soft. Your father doesn't exactly get paid the highest amount of money now does he? This means he would be picky about food. No fattening food either, just protein and greens. He wouldn't even allow you to touch dessert, would he? No. So you move, and are living with Bobby. His wife, Ellen, isn't it? Anyway, she cooks you the first meal you've seen that isn't designed to thicken your muscles and keep you lean." Cas said.

"Wow. Uh, how do you know Ellen?" Dean asked.

"She runs The Roadhouse. It's a bar, at the edge of town. You'll have to go there some day, their burgers are fantastic." Cas shrugged, "She represents a third front in the ridiculous fued."

"Third front?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. The Roadhouse is the one place where nobody fights. I spend a lot of time there, so does Gabriel, my brother. Anyway, it's kinda a sneaky thing, this third front, and the defining characteristic is their cutie marks. Their bloody cutie marks." Cas said, "They have this sort of hacker-type thing going on, they can get into just about anything if they tried."

"That's cool." Dean said.

"Yeah. I've been working up the courage to join them, but I can't see to. So far all I know is it's Jo, Ash, Ellen, Bobby, Charlie, and a bunch of others I've been sworn to secrecy for." Cas snorted. "But they're cool. It's kinda like hanging around with spies all day. The most ridiculous part is they actually want people to spy for them."

"When do we start?" Dean asked.


	2. Every Story Has Two Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've heard the Dean and Sammy side of the story, and I felt it was only right I give Cas and Meg their own chapter. Enjoy!

Cas's first memory was his mobile. Back when it was peaceful. The small animals fascinated his tiny mind, spinning around and around without stop.

.o0o.

Meg's first memory was her name. Being called by her name by her dad, Crowley, her mom, Lilith. But it wasn't them that the voice belonged to. It was Lucifer. Her older brother. When her dad or mom said it, it sounded harsh. Mean. When Lucifer said it, it sounded... right, in a sense.

.o0o.

On Castiel's first day of school, he sat in the corner and read Harry Potter for the first time, falling in love with the plot and the friendships and the story itself. 

.o0o.

On Meg's first day, she tried to talk to the really small boy in the corner with his face stuck in a long and probably heavy book. He wouldn't acknowledge anything or anyone though. So she sat down by him and picked up a Cam Jansen book, a small chapter book about a girl with an eidetic memory. They sat in companionable silence the whole day. Meg loved it.

.o0o.

When Cas was in first grade, they learned about cutie marks. The tattoo-like pictures would appear on your shoulder when you had figured out your true calling. Everybody got them.

.o0o.

When Meg was in first grade, she learned that anyone who had a bloody cutie mark was destined to be evil. She was taught that by her father.

.o0o.

When Castiel was in second grade, he asked if his friend Meg Masters could come over. A deathly silence filled the table and he spent the rest of the night in tears over the bruises covering his body, that were put there by the people he loved.

.o0o.

When Meg was in second grade, she asked if Castiel Novak could visit. Everyone laughed, except for Lucifer and Ruby, who was two and didn't get it.

.o0o.

When Castiel was in eighth grade, Meg Masters took him on a date. And kissed him. He realized he didn't like it. He liked kissing guys, he had once spent an abandoned class period in a heated make-out-session with Cameron Meyers. So he told Meg.

.o0o.

When Meg Masters was in eighth grade, she asked Castiel Novak out for dinner. She kissed him. She didn't really like it. She liked kissing girls, particularly one Grace Harper. So when Cas told her he was gay, she didn't mind one bit.

.o0o.

When Castiel was in tenth grade, he resisted a teacher's command.

"Now class, what's should you do to get a girl to like you?" the teacher was very bigoted. Having spent years with Meg, he knew the answer.

"Do what appeals to her as a human being." Cas said obviously, rolling his eyes.

"Are you sassing me, young man?" the teacher retorted. 

"No, but I am avoiding what could possibly become a very sexist and misogynistic matter." Cas responded with a straight face.

"That's it! You, detention, now!" the teacher said, pointing to the door. Cas swaggered out of the classroom, something he picked up from Meg, and walked down the hallway calmly. 

That had felt nice.

A black glow (don't ask me how that's possible) appeared on his shoulder. He rolled up his sleeve to see his cutie mark. It was a pair of wings with a red spatter behind them that made Cas's blood run cold. While the wings themselves said, 'badass' like nobody's business, the blood set behind them, almost like a morbid backdrop, simply put a target on his head.

This was gonna be a bitch to hide.

.o0o.

When Meg was in her sophomore year, she was at weapons training. She had thrown her knives perfectly. She felt rather proud of herself.

"It could be better." Crowley sniffed. Rowena, Meg's grandmother, had thrown hers just a little bit better than Meg herself.

"Now, now, Fergus, don't insult her, she's only a wee girl." Rowena said in her dainty Scottish accent that could fool anybody.

"No, he's right, it could be better." Meg said back, feeling resentment boil in her gut. Hatred too, but that had been there for such a long time it felt like part of Meg.

She barely kept her act together, pushing herself with her training. Harder. Harder. Harder still. She threw the knives until she was perfect. She shot her gun until she was as good as the legendary John Winchester.

She kicked ass at hand-to-hand combat.

She knew it was her true calling.

Except it didn't feel right.

Suddenly a silver glow appeared on her arm. She lifted her sleeve to reveal a shining silver dagger, crossed with a pistol. It was menacing and frightening. And bloody.

She always wore long sleeves after that night.

.o0o.

When Castiel was in his sophomore year, he met a boy named Dean Winchester.

.o0o.

Meg was sitting at the lunch table when her best friend plopped down with a new book, 'Percy Jackson: Lightning Theif'

"Again?" she asked. Cas nodded, mindlessly stuffing fries into his mouth and not really paying attention.

"Hi." a blond boy said, sitting down. 

"Go away." Meg growled. Dean shifted his leather jacket to show his cutie mark, and suddenly Meg didn't question him at all.

"I'm Dean." he said, munching on his burger.

"Last names are very important here, y'know." Meg snarked.

"Oh, trust me, I do. Name's Winchester." Dean said. Meg's face took on a newfound look of respect and admiration.

"This is why I didn't want to tell you in the first place." Dean huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Wow." Meg said, awe-struck and at a loss for words.

"I'm sure you're deadly and slightly intelligent too. Now, what does one do for fun around here?" Dean asked, leaning back against the wall.

"Plot of ways to destroy the patriarchy, among other things." a guy said, sitting down.

"Who're you?" Dean asked.

"Andy Gallahan." he said.

"Dean Winchester." Dean smiled. The boy started choking on his French fry.

"Wow- wait. Like, THE Winchester? Like, John Winchester's son who grew up a hitman?" Andy's eyes widened.

"Yeah, that Winchester. And I didn't grow up a hitman, I grew up the son of a hitman. I don't want to be one. I kinda just want to stop fighting." Dean said nonchalantly.

"We all do." Andy said seriously.

"Hang on, do the middle schoolers eat lunch here?" Dean asked.

"Yep. Adjoined schools." a third guy said, sitting down in the last available seat.

"I'm Garth, by the way." he said.

"And I'm Dean Winchester. Yes, my father is John Winchester, no I don't want your secrets, and no, I am not here to kill someone." Dean said, losing his patience.

"I have to go annoy my brother now." Dean said as soon as he was done with his lunch. He tossed it in the garbage and quickly found his brother. His brother hadn't hit his growth spurt yet, Dean didn't really know if the kid ever would, so he wasn't that hard to spot.

"SAMMY!" Dean yelled. Sam glared at him.

"What do you want, Dean?" Sam asked, rolling his eyes.

"Just wanted to make sure you were doing well on your first day." Dean smiled.

"Fuck off." Sam growled.

"Ooooh, Sammy has an attitude." Dean laughed.

"Yeah and I can also beat you in hand-to-hand combat." Sam said back.

"Who are your friends?" Dean asked.

"This is Jess, she says hi, she doesn't talk much." Sam said, gesturing to a pretty girl who sat on the end of the table.

"This is Gabriel, he doesn't share food, and Kevin, he likes reading books in other languages." Gabriel was shorter than Sam and pudgy with blond hair and a sucker sticking out of his mouth. Kevin was an Asian boy with black hair and his nose stuck deep into a book, which was indeed in another language.

"Hi." Dean smiled at them. They smiled back for the most part, except Kevin was reading, so Dean really couldn't tell.

"So Sammy, do you wanna skip?" Dean asked slyly.

"What? No." Sam said, "My teachers are awesome."

"Only you would think that. Okay, I guess, have fun. Don't impregnate any women." Dean said merrily, almost skipping back to his own table.

"So, any of you wanna skip with me? It'd be kinda lonely by myself." Dean asked. 

"Hells yeah." Meg smiled, "Cas'll come too."

"Cool, let's go." Dean smiled, grabbing Cas's empty tray and dumping it out before making his escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yessss. I'm on a four-day break from school. Expect a lot more from me this weekend.
> 
> Love,  
> Cat


	3. Ugh I'm Out Of Title Ideas How Does This Even Happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... wow... I was supposed to update this over the four-day weekend. I am so, so sorry, my babies. I guess writing at 9:15 on a school night will have to do.

"Okay, so seriously, is there like a park or something we can go to?" Dean asked Cas, who was occupying the passenger's seat of the Impala. Meg was in the back and Charlie had managed to squeeze into the back _with_ Meg.

"Yeah, take a right here." Charlie said. Dean turned the corner and came to a slightly secluded playground with a slide, a merry-go-round, and a swing set. The four sat at the swings and started talking.

"So, what was it like? Being raised the way you were, I mean." Charlie asked curiously, her eyes brightening.

"Well, we couldn't really stay in the same place for more than a month, so many government agencies were out to get us." Dean said, shrugging, "Honestly settling down feels weird at this point."

"Huh." Charlie said, thinking.

"Is it true that you can perform the Robin Hood stunt?" Castiel asked.

"So true it hurts." Dean said proudly, "Not like my dad'd care."

"What?" Charlie asked.

"He gave zero shits what me or Sammy accomplished, just so long as we didn't either get him caught or messed up in any way shape or form." Dean said, shrugging again.

"I... wow." Charlie said, flabbergasted.

"That's how I was raised too." Meg said. Charlie was frowning at the ground and kicking at it, thinking.

"Pretty much." Cas smiled.

"So, you wanna tell me how the whole feud thing started?" Dean asked, feeling curious.

"It's a power thing." Cas said, "I think. It's been so long since it started and to be honest I never pay attention in Family History anyways."

"Oh." Dean said. This day was very anticlimactic. Especially for the sons and daughters of professional killers.

"Do you hear that?" Charlie gasped. Dean glanced around frantically and Charlie shot off like a bolt of lightning.

"What's up with her?" Dean asked, but Cas and Meg followed. Dean sighed and started galloping after.

"This?!" Dean gasped, leaning heavily on an _ice cream truck_ , " _This is what you ran a_ half a mile _for_?"

"He'll have a drumstick, I want a regular ice cream sandwich, and Dean, what do you want?"

"SpongeBob pop." Dean said. A face turned around in the truck and both Dean and Cas gasped.

"Gabe?"

"Sammy?!"

"Uh..." Sam said, at a loss for words, "Hi?"

"What are you doing?!" Dean yelled.

"I got a job." Sam answered, bitchfacing Dean.

"You're _thirteen_ " Dean said, exasperated.

"So? This place hires thirteen-year-olds." Sam smiled, handing Dean a SpongeBob pop.

"Fine." Dean grumbled as he bit into his ice cream, much to Charlie's horror.

"How did you do that?" she asked, sucking off a chunk of her ice cream sandwich.

"I don't know." Dean said, shrugging.

"Let's go!" a man said cheerily. Sam and Gabe smiled and sat down in their seats. The man pressed the gas pedal and they continued at their excruciatingly slow pace.

"That was Lucifer." Meg said, pointing to him, "He's nineteen now, and although most of the time he's annoyingly happy- his sense of humor is Satan jokes- don't make him truly angry."

"Okay." Dean said. The four got back into the Impala and Dean drove them all home, dropping Meg off a block away from her house so her parents wouldn't see her and Cas in the same car.


	4. I Wanted To Change The Genre Slightly So Action

"Castiel, pass the butter, please." Naomi said politely during the 'Family Hall Meeting'.

"Of course." Castiel responded, equally politely. The butter passed from his hand to Naomi's.

" _Why_ do you wear that dreadful thing all the time?" Naomi sighed, her voice loudest amongst the quiet babble of the family.

"Because, I like it." Cas said quietly, hoping that what he thought was about to happen wasn't.

"It's hideous." Raphael added, "Do take it off so that we may enjoy the evening." there was an undertone to his voice which suggested something that made Cas want to run away.

"Of course." maybe Cas could hide the mark under his shirt? He removed his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair.

Michael, the acting head of the family, tapped his wine glass with a fork.

"Oh Lord, thank you for this wonderful place before us, our wonderful family, our wonderful life." the mood was somber, and everybody had their head bowed down, "Amen."

"Amen," the clan chorused back, before poking at their food in a ridiculously perfect manner.

"Now, Cassie, how's your homework going?" Naomi asked, "Your grades are slipping."

"Naomi, I will try to do better." Cas promised, heart sinking.

"You will receive one lash for every C you earn in school." Naomi said. Cas' heart was officially in Hell, this was it.

"Naomi-" Cas pleaded.

"Maybe you should receive one now, for disobeying a direct order!" Naomi fumed.

"I am sorry, Naomi." Cas apologized, "I did not mean to."

"I'm sorry, he says! I'll do better, he says!" Naomi was bordering on hysteria, "Remove your shirt, young man! Three lashes!" Cas didn't know it was possible to feel like this. He felt empty-ish. Almost depressed, but not quite.

Then rage.

He stood up quietly, before grabbing his trench coat. He slipped it on over his shoulders, feeling the familiar weight of the coat and all of the weapons he had hidden over the years. He felt the weight of his blade in the sleeve, and let the blade fall to his fingertips, the cool metal feeling like home. Then he snarled. It sent the younger members scrambling for cover, but the older people just laughed.

"You really think you can fight us all off?" Naomi screeched with laughter.

"Don't know anything, until you try." Cas responded, voice even. He brought the butt of the blade down over Naomi's head, but she grabbed it out of the way. The two fought, almost like a dance, with ducking and punching and shoving. Somehow the pair found themselves outside, near the edge of the backyard. Cas scrambled away and managed to find a hiding spot in the crotch of a tree. He crouched in that spot, feeling his legs go slightly numb, as his family searched for him.

"He's gotta be around here somewhere." a voice whispered, right under Cas' tree. Cas stiffened and hoped that he wouldn't move any branches.

"He's not here, the kid's never liked the outdoors." another voice scoffed, leading the two to walk away. Cas relaxed. He waited for the sun to rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short but IMPORTANT PLOT DEVELOPMENT, GUYS


End file.
